DD, that was always one of my favorite stories. Thank you. For those who haven’t, here it is on-line: http://home.ccil.org/~cowan/omnilingual.html
In Play: “I’m still trying to come to grips with it all. It’s like that old Pre Diaspora children’s book—the one about wonderland. I can understand, in a way, what happened to us here, domestically. But the rest of it . . .”
This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. You take the blue pill – the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill – you stay in Wonderland, and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes.
A woman’s not a woman till the pills wear off.
What are we going to do with her?
Run a level three diagnostic.
Not anymore than usual, Houston. Diagnostics are green. Link to communications card ready for data reception. If this works, when we touch down tomorrow, I’m buying all you guys a round of drinks.
Really, Moreta, a green dragon? Save your wrath for something worth the energy to spit at.
Enough expository banter. Now, we fight like men! And ladies! And ladies who dress like men!
“Not exactly. He decided to play ground attack with tennis balls, and the dastardly enemy’s return fire shot him down.”
Well, then, I’ll just have to aim high and serve nothing but aces.
If we hit that bullseye, the rest of the dominoes should fall like a house of cards. Checkmate.
Now, like all great plans, my strategy is so simple an idiot could have devised it.
My friend, you suffer from the misplaced optimism of the doomed.
Every goddamn place you go!
We don’t have to be mean, 'cause, remember: no matter where you go… there you are.
Its five-year mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before.
A time will come when men will stretch out their eyes. They should see planets like our Earth.
Well, the Maquis do not live in paradise!
“You are currently bound for Camp Charon on the planet Hades. I’m sure all of you have heard stories about Camp Charon, and I assure you that all of them were true. I don’t imagine any of you will enjoy your stay there . . . and it’s going to be a very long one.”
A feeling of foreboding, and, indeed, of physical as well as psychological discomfort, had come over him. He suddenly recalled—and this did nothing at all to help—a phrase he had once come across: “Someone is walking over your grave."